Scarred
by futurejkrowling-x
Summary: As Ronnie is diagnosed with a life threatening illness,Danielle is determined to stand by her side no matter what but just how far is Danielle willing to go to ensure that her mother is brought to safety?POV varies between Ronnie and Danielle. R&R please!
1. Chapter 1

**This is the 1st chapter of 'Scarred'. I hope you like it and think that it is worth a review.**

**Danielle POV**

Chapter 1

I sat there, in the doctors office, appalled at the news I was hearing. How could this be true? How could we be sat here, being told this awful, dreadful news? This life changing, disastrous news. I couldn't imagine this becoming a reality. This was a nightmare.

I gazed over to Ronnie. She was sat on the chair, her hands clasped to the sides of the chair. She sat completely still, frozen to the spot, unable to move an inch. I peered closer into her face. She was looking down, making it harder for me to judge her expression.

"Ronnie?" it was the way I said it, the way I seemed to state it, it terrified even my soul. Seemingly my words, shaky, uneven and frightened, stated my fear, my horror and this horror and fear began to pass on to the people around me. Ronnie looked up at me. I closed my eyes, tears trickling from my eyes and down past my cheeks. I wished I hadn't spoke, I wished I hadn't uttered a single word. My utterance only stated that this was, in fact, horribly true.

I continued to squeeze my eyes shut, focusing not on the situation, but on the look on Ronnie's poor, shocked face. Here face had been rigid, unmoveable. She kept her mouth fixed in the same position, worried and confused. Mascara and eye liner was flowing down her cheeks, yet she didn't seem to care. Her eyes seemed to scream out in terror, in fear, in pain. I could sense the worry, the confusion, the sudden thought of 'what if I die'. I let out a slightly cry of fear as this thought crossed my mind. What if she did die? How would I ever cope? How could I ever go on without Ronnie, my mother, by my side?

I flicked open my eyes in a quick, sharp motion. I gulped, a lump forming in my throat as I attempted to prevent myself shedding more tears.

"I understand this may be difficult..." the doctor interfered with my thoughts, luring me back to reality in a steady drift. I almost scoffed as the doctor uttered these words. Difficult? He underestimated how _difficult_ this was to even imagine! He underestimated how difficult it was yet to become....

The doctor never received a reply. He simply got an unimpressed grunt from Ronnie who was seemingly comprehending what I was thinking and complete silence from myself.

"What you have to understand is that you two must stay strong. Work together as a family. Miss Mitchell, with love and support from your family and friends, you have more chance of surviving".

"Really?" I was surprised and yet still, somehow I doubted him. The doctor stuttered, hesitated then continued with his next comment.

"Everyone attempting to conquer this illness needs to have hope. They need to be aware of the risks and possibilities but lets me honest here, everyone battling this illness needs to have faith, they need to pray for the best. Hope, Miss Mitchell", the doctor sighed.

Ronnie and I were quiet, soundless, afraid of any next movement, noise or human presence. It seemed as though both of us just needed to be shut out from the world, to be given some time apart from the thought of this. The thoughts of everything. I sighed, my sigh resulting in a few dozen more tears rolling gently down my cheeks. I edged closer to Ronnie, determined to show my support and encouragement.

"We're going to get through this, Ronnie", I gently set my hand down on hers and squeezed it tightly, hoping it would make her feel better, safer. With her free hand, Ronnie wiped at the loose tears almost angrily then set her free hand on top of mine as I had done hers.

"But..." Ronnie cried, "it's..it's cancer". It was as if she had lost all hope already. Her voice faded halfway through the sentence, tears forbidding her to speak a few more words. But it wasn't just her, even I shuddered as she uttered the very word that would scar me for the rest of my life...cancer. The word seemed evil. The word screamed destruction. It was the word that may tear our lives apart completely.

I swallowed hard. I needed to be strong. If there was going to be anyone to stand by Ronnie's side through this...it was me.

"No, Ronnie", I wiped odd tears from my eyes and took a deep breath, "We're going to get through this...I promise. I will make sure of it". It shocked me how certain and sure I seemed. I regretted making the promise from the second it slipped out. The promise was not mine to make. Ronnie's future wasn't in my hands. I had no control over the situation whatsoever. For all I knew, this could end in a disaster...

**Well what did you think? Are you intrigued to read more? I really hope you liked it and will be checking out Chapter 2. Also please Review!!**

**Georgina =)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well here's the 2nd chapter of 'Scarred'. I hope you like it! Read and Review Please!!**

**Danielle POV**

Chapter 2

I flicked the light on as I entered our home, trembling with fear and fighting back any sudden tears as I did so. It felt unlike most times I had walked into my house. Last time it had been comforting, safe and showing a sign that I could become relaxed but now it gave off a cold, eerie feel. A feel that gave me slight shudders down my spine.

I trudged wearily through the hall, shoving aside any spare cans and bottles spread across the dark ground and kicking off my boots in the process. I threw the information sheet onto the table and sat down at the kitchen table. I gazed down at the information sheet, letting slip a couple of tears at the same time. The doctor had handed us a sheet. A sheet that basically explained cancer. It was hardly comforting, more frightening, if anything but for some reason I was still intrigued to read it. I pulled the information sheet closer to me so that I was able to properly read it. I read and read, trying desperately to take in the information. Unfortunately, nothing was clear to me. At the very first sentence, my heart beat had began to intense and tears had whisked down my cheeks in a hurry. _Breast cancer._ It was that, those two words that had triggered my emotions. It may sound insensitive but I hadn't realised it was breast cancer. I suppose once the doctor had uttered the word 'cancer' I had been unaware of the words that followed due to my shock and denial.

I pushed the information sheet away from me and to the other side of the table then stared bleakly into space, trying my best to prevent more tears from pouring out of my puffy, watery eyes.

I was just about to run up to my room and hide myself from the world so I could have a proper cry, when Ronnie slowly entered the kitchen. She stood by the door, silent and afraid. She kept one hand glued to the door at all times, seemingly to steady herself, and the other hand wrapped around her stomach. Her face, yet facing the ground, showed a pale, ghostly complexion and her eyes, red and puffy like mine.

I sneakily dried off my eyes with the sleeve of my jumper, determined not to let Ronnie see me crying. I quickly rose myself from my seat and stood tall against the back of the chair. I gazed at Ronnie, unsure of which words to use, unsure how to make this any better. I couldn't.

Slowly but surely I edged near her, trying to somehow reach out and help her. I stood in front of her, still unsure of what was the best thing to do. She seemed lifeless. It was like she was ending the battle she was only starting. She had given up already.

"Ronnie", my voice was dry and nervous. She lifted her head higher so that she was looking into my eyes. I fought back the tears with difficulty and I found that awful, typical lump forming in my throat once more.

"Danielle?" her voice was shaky, quiet and spooky. Not normal Ronnie, I thought. But none of this was normal, was it?

I continued to stand on the spot, searching for the right words, the right question, the right phrase, however, I couldn't. It was her eyes. Her dead, empty eyes. They scared me. They made me feel unsafe, they made me more aware of the hell that was about to enter our lives.

These thoughts, in no fault of my own, reduced me to tears. I let out all the tears I had been powerfully fighting back and let them flow down my cheeks in an unstoppable motion. I shrunk to the ground and cried and cried. Ronnie crouched down beside me and cradled me in her arms as if I were a baby again. I shut my eyes and nudged my head up and onto her shoulder.

"Danielle", her voice was still quiet but in a mother like way, carried a sense of comfort, "it's going to be OK, I promise. For you anyway..." her voice trailed, leaving my heart pounding with fear.

"No!" I wasn't just going to let her think like this. She shouldn't! She couldn't!

"No, Ronnie! Everything is going to be OK! You're going to win this battle, Ronnie!"

"Danielle, I'm not going to be here soon, you've got to understand that. I'll be dead and buried".

"NO!" I was screaming now, completely against this idea. "NO! YOU WON'T DIE! YOU WON'T!"

"I will...", she sounded so truthful, so convinced. It killed me inside. Could she really die? Could she really lose her battle to cancer? She had given up hope. Just how could I save her?

**Well that was the 2nd chapter! I hope you like it and will be checking out chapter 3! I also promise that the next chapter will be longer as this one was quite short! Please Review because I need to hear your opinions on 'Scarred'. And thanks for reading!**

**Georgina =)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the 3rd chapter of 'Scarred'. On this chapter I have decided to do a bit of Ronnie POV as I think you, as a reader, should see two sides to this story, Ronnie's and Danielle's. Hope you like it! Read and Review Please!**

**Ronnie POV**

Chapter 3

It was the fear maybe, no, in fact it was definitely the fear. The fear of being told I have cancer. A sickening, ugly pain formed in the pit of my stomach. This pain worked its way through my body, twisting, turning, making sure it affected me throughout and once it was finished its terrible, manipulative quest, my body began to experience a malfunction. I would shake, shake right there on the spot continuously. At the exact same time precisely, my head would be experiencing major terror. My head would spin, quotes from the doctor's awful, life changing words would rattle through my head and eventually I would be disgustingly sick in the bathroom- and this was all because I dared to consider the thought of being diagnosed with life threatening cancer.

I honestly wish I had never found that lump now. It was a terrible, shocking day for myself. I had been looking at myself in the mirror, deciding what to wear on that particular day when, to my horror, I caught my finger on a lump on my breast. I knew from that moment that things weren't right. I had never noticed a lump on my body before and I was sure, almost certain that it was truly abnormal.

I hadn't known much about cancer at the time. That was the reason I was so worried about the lump. I wasn't sure what it meant at the time. Did I have cancer? Did I not have cancer? Was it just a cancer scare? That was the trouble, I had no idea.

I did my research though. I searched and searched, online mostly but I also read various books I had lying around. Everything I read, everything I saw, they all scared the hell out of me. I was frightened, I was afraid...and that's what lead to that terrible moment. That terrible, terrible moment in the doctor's office where it was confirmed that I, indeed, had cancer.

It seems selfish, I'll admit, but at the moment the doctor confirmed my fear, I only thought of myself. I wondered what would happen, I wondered what my future was yet to become...that was, if I _had_ a future. It was only after these thoughts had whirled round my head that I, in my panic and confusion, considered my family. My family. How had they not been my first thought? At the time, my head had shot up in a flash so that my eyes were now fixed on Danielle. Danielle, what would I do without Danielle? What would she do without me? It was then that I realised it wasn't just my future that was hanging in the balance, it was Danielle's also.

It was there and then that I saw the complete and utter fear splashed across Danielle's poor, innocent face. Poor thing! She hadn't done a thing wrong, she never had, and yet somehow she had been tossed into this awful, undeserving situation. It was the fear, the terror across Danielle's face that prompted me to admit to myself that this was, in fact, all my fault. It was _my_ cancer, _my _problem, _my_ life that had caused these awful emotions for my daughter. And it was this thought that prompted me to consider Danielle's future slightly a little more than my own.

I tried to keep my distance from Danielle. I tried to avoid sudden communication with her, awkward silences or discussing the cancer at all costs. It may sound stupid, a little unreasonable, but I had to do this, not for me, but for Danielle. I didn't want her to be part of this. I didn't want her to cry when I cried, to feel my pain and sorrow when I was experiencing pain and sorrow also and most of all, I didn't want her to feel lost, to feel scared, to feel any sort of uncalled for misery when, or if, I passed away.

Somehow my idea didn't seem to be working very well. Danielle still looked full of misery. Whenever I passed her in the hall or sat by her at the dinner table, her face lowered and any sign of happiness on her face faded. This told me that even the thought of my cancer began to destroy Danielle inside. This was luring me towards a snap decision...

If I was a selfish woman, I would explain to Danielle that I need her by my side every step of the way, no matter what. After all, she _is_ my daughter and it's not easy knowing that sooner or later cancer could get the better of me. For all I know, cancer could already be slowly killing me. However, I was not that type of woman. I was not going to put my one and only daughter through this amount of misery. I wasn't going to let her large opportunity of a life pan out this way. I knew what I needed to do, making Danielle stay by my side was not it.

This was why I slowly and steadily came to an accurate decision. Like I said, Danielle didn't deserve to be put through this misery. She needed to be free to live her own life, to play by her own rules. I didn't want her caring for my every need. I didn't want her rushing to my side when times happened to get tough for me as my cancer progressed. I didn't want her at every single doctor's appointment. I didn't want her watching as my hair slowly fell from my head day in and day out until there was nothing left on my head and I was completely bald. The worst thing about it was that, that was the Ronnie she would remember. Bald, frail, weak Ronnie. That wasn't who I wanted her to remember. I wanted her to remember me for who I am, bold, confident and strong minded. That's why I pondered over the decision of possibly leaving. But leaving? Leaving? Could I really do it? I had to though...it was my only choice.

**So what did you think? Was that a good chapter? I hope you thought it was! Thanks for reading and please be sure to check out chapter 4. Please Review also!**

**Georgina =)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, this is the 4th chapter of 'Scarred'. This time it's Danielle POV. Read on to find out what happens and Review so that I know your opinions!**

**Danielle POV**

Chapter 4

I leaped down the last couple of stairs with a skip in my stride. It was early in the morning and I had today's full proof plan firmly set into my brain. It wasn't a plan as such, more a step in the right direction. It was to be as cheery as possible. I'll admit; it wasn't the most cunning of plans, in fact, it probably wasn't even the best of ideas however, I was positively certain that it would lead Ronnie and I in the right direction. Well, I hoped for that, I prayed for that.

I didn't have any idea how to full fill our possible step forward. The fact that I was in a bad mood, tired and weak from spending all night devising this method of recovery didn't make it any easier. Yes, it had took me the whole night to concoct this plan that it had left me no time whatsoever to proceed in any other thoughts for possible help in our current situation. Even though this was the case, I decided to try my utmost best to conquer this life threatening challenge. I would try my utmost best to recover me and Ronnie's mother/daughter relationship. I would try my utmost best to change this. I didn't care which way I changed it, bad or good, but let's be fair; how much more misery can wriggle its unsettling, crushing self into my life?

As I skipped down those stairs, in my merry,almost unnecessarily merry, attitude, a number of things scurried across the thinking chambers of my brain. The usual questions that made me feel less confident about almost everything quickly approached these chambers. What if this doesn't help? What if Ronnie thinks I'm just making a joke out of a terribly serious situation? What if this doesn't work and the lengths I have pushed myself to accomplish are all for nothing? I quickly rattled these thoughts out of my brain with one quick shake of the head, replacing them with comforting thoughts. Ronnie will see this as a helping hand, I thought, she will realise that what she has, her family, her friends, her whole life, is worth fighting for. If I distract her with my positive attitude she will sense that she needs to take action and live the days she has left, that is; if they are numbered, I continued to think to myself. My final thought was adamant; Ronnie is your mother, you are her daughter...she loves you. This final thought lodged into my brain like pen to paper. And so I advanced down the stairs, continuing my merry, smiley attitude.

I entered the kitchen, my feet still hopping up and down, trying to continue the joyful skip, however, missing beats and becoming more and more like a bouncy pogo stick. I slowed to a halt as I found, to my astonishment, that Ronnie was not there. That's funny, I thought, she's almost always in the kitchen at this time in the morning. I shuffled across the kitchen floor and peered amongst the groceries left lying spare askew on the kitchen table. The shopping bags had been removed from them and they were scattered across the kitchen table. It wasn't like Ronnie to leave her groceries just lying about like this. Beginning to get curious, in a frightful way rather than adventurous, I scanned my hand across the groceries. Milk. Of course! My heart slowed back down to its normal pace as I realised the reason as to why this would be happening. I almost chuckled at my foolishness. Obviously, Ronnie had forgotten the milk and decided to rush back down to the shop to buy some and trying to be quick, she must have left the groceries like this in her rush to retrieve the forgotten milk. Thinking this over, I actually did laugh out loud. The foolishness was uncalled for but it wasn't my fault; how could I keep myself completely sane in this situation? It was only fair that I occasionally lost the plot!

I spun round and began to rummage around in the fridge, searching for an early morning snack. I noticed the bread, not in the fridge but above it, and collected the butter from the fridge so that I could begin making my toast. I turned to the chopping board, walked a couple of steps towards it, noticed something abnormal then panicked. I let out a gasp, dropped everything I was carrying at once, almost killing myself with the falling knife, and stood still, as if it were a horror movie and a giant monster was about to appear. I clamped one hand onto my mouth and stared at the piece of paper in horror. Suddenly the functions in my brain began to quickly shape every piece of evidence together forming one horrible conclusion.

I was afraid to pick the piece of paper up. I really _did_ feel like I was in some sort of unnecessary horror movie and I felt as though the scary, tense music was about to fill my ears. However, I swallowed hard and continued on, taking one more step forward at a time. I reached out my hand slowly, shakily, and grasped the piece of paper in my hand. Fearing the worst, I began to read out the letter, my hands trembling as I did so.

_Dear Danielle, I realise my behaviour towards you has been ridiculous over the past couple of days. It's fair to say I haven't been giving you the encouragement you need to tackle this head on but you must understand Danielle, it's not easy for me either. Well, I suppose you understand that fine and well but maybe you don't consider the full extent of this. Danielle, I feel truly lost. I can never fix this, it's not my place to do so. Maybe it's that, not having the power to control my future, or maybe not, I'm not sure but whatever it is, I can't help you in any way. That's why I'm leaving. I want you to full fill your life to its full extent. I don't want you spending what should be the best days of you life fussing over me. That's not the way it's going to go, Danielle. That's why I have to do this. For you and for me. I'm sorry but whatever happens, you're my daughter and I love you. Lots of love, Ronnie x_

I let out a gasp. During the letter, I had sunk onto the floor as I comprehended everything she was saying. But it hadn't registered yet. She was gone...she was really gone?

**So what's your verdict on this chapter? I need to hear your opinions! I hope you liked it anyway and will be checking out Chapter 5. Are you liking the mix of POVs? I wasn't sure about them to begin with but I think it's turning out OK..? Well thanks for reading! Please Review!**

**Georgina =) **


	5. Chapter 5

**The 5th chapter is now up! Hope you like it! R&R!**

**Ronnie POV**

Chapter 5

I just ran. I can't explain it any further. What I was doing, why I was doing it, It was all a blur. I had woken up early with a plan in mind. I had bounced down the stairs as lightly as possible, determined not to stir a soul. I have to give myself some credit, I was incredibly quiet on foot, quieter than I had ever been before. The night before, when Danielle had been safely sleeping in her bed, I had casually but quickly threw odds and ends into a spare suitcase. I had tossed clothes of all sorts, including skirts, trousers, tops and underwear, then managed to cram in essentials like toothbrushes, money, soap and shampoo then I had zipped up the suitcase in haste, scurried downstairs then hauled the suitcase into the downstairs coat closet. It was then that I realised I was actually taking action...my plan was for real.

Like I said, I had bounced downstairs with incredible silence. I had then guided myself towards the coat closet. I had picked up the suitcase filled with my belongings then bolted towards the door. I remember I had stood, my hand on the side of the door, my head bowed in confusion, just wondering...wondering what on earth I was doing. The thought,however, didn't last for long. In a flash I was out the door and in the process of hurrying through the quiet yet unsettling hustle and bustle of Albert Square. I had hurried through the alley ways as quickly as possible, passing the forever usual corner shops and buildings. The corner shops and buildings that, I reminded myself, I would never see or speak of again. I was leaving Albert Square, I was opting myself out of this everlasting misery surrounding Albert Square. I was going to start a new life. I was going to start afresh.

These thoughts, these actions, they all had lead up to this moment in time. They had all lead to me sitting on my own on a small yet comforting wall with no food, no place to stay and very little money. It hadn't struck me when I left the house just how little money I was carrying with me. In my haste, I had grabbed the nearest things possible in which case, this must have included money also. I held the money I was carrying with me in the palm of my hand, my fingers stretched out so I was able to acknowledge just how much money I had. I sat for a minute counting. Finally I came to a conclusion; £30. £30?! I was almost choking in my sudden realisation of just how idiotic I had been. £30 wasn't enough to live on, it was barely enough to pay for a night in a B&B, upper class B&Bs anyway. I sighed, clenched the palm of my hand together, trapping the money then slid the money back into the pocket in my suitcase. Sighing again, I gazed around. Sun was lurking from beneath the light brush of clouds however, not strong enough to fight through the misty grey fog that formed the clouds. Admittedly; it wasn't the most brilliant day but somehow the atmosphere was strangely comforting, strangely peaceful. I relaxed myself slightly and leaned back, letting my arms stretch out behind me and hold the weight of my upper body. Gazing up at those misty grey clouds I wondered what I would do next. Which road I would dare to walk on. Honestly, I had no clue. Through my sudden rush of ideas flowing graciously into my mind, my thoughts still relayed back to Danielle. My poor daughter. Confused, I thought, she must be so confused. I hadn't comprehended the negative effects my decision would have on Danielle. Of course I was making the right decision. Leaving her to fend for herself in a time like this was better than leaving her fending for us both. However, what if she resulted in acting stupidly. Danielle, although bright and intelligent, was vulnerable to making mistakes in her life. These mistakes, in my own words, were based around stupidity. Danielle is smart, a very smart girl in fact but that doesn't stop her from reacting in a way which suggests she attempts to make painless decisions which result in her making _painful _decisions.

My thoughts wandered again in the way they always do when I think about one thought for far too long. From the small rock near the edge of the wall I was focusing on, I drifted my focus upwards to the sky again. One hand quickly shot up to shield my eyes from the now blinding light reflecting down from the heavens. The sun had now peaked out from behind the clouds, glistening down on the world beneath, the warm air bouncing off me and prompting me to want to begin to sunbathe right there, on the wall. However, my self consciousness stopped me making such a decision.

I focused my gaze upon the rock once more. The rock now sparkling, bright and shiny from the warmth and light of the sun. Convincing myself that Danielle was indeed alright, I quickly tried to conduct some sort of plan. Where would I go from here? Was there even a road to walk down?

I pulled myself up off the wall then clenched my fist around the suitcase handle. Dragging the suitcase behind me I began to make my way down the pavement, my feet aching and my stomach rumbling due to the fact that I was starving. Again I thought to myself, where would I go from here? Wherever I decided to go and whatever I decided to do, there was no going back now...

**Well that was chapter 5! Firstly, I just want to apologize for my slow updates. I'm going to try and make my next update Sunday. Secondly, what do you think of this story so far? Is it worth another update? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Review Please!!!**

**Georgina =) **


	6. Chapter 6

**Well here is the 6th chapter of 'Scarred'. I hope you like it! R&R!**

**Danielle POV**

Chapter 6

Reading the letter, reading the twisted confused words of my mother I could somehow sense my vulnerable self go into a startled dysfunction. I had froze, froze still, shaking and shaking. My hand had eventually lost grip of the letter due to the shaking and the piece of paper had fluttered, graceful and innocent, down to the ground somehow able to hide its true meaning; the beginning of the end. It was then that I pondered over that theory over and over. The beginning of the end...could it really be true? To be honest; it truly seemed like the only possible phrase that I could use to describe such events.

As I had stood there, suddenly aware of the level of shock I was actually in, I shook myself from my brick-like posture. Still in slight shock, I then fixed my gaze upon the letter which now lay soullessly, lifeless on the floor. Seeing this letter again was like reliving the terror and fear I had felt when I first read it. Realising this, my heart raced and a queer nauseousness formed in the pit of my stomach. Panicking, I backed quickly away from it as if it were a vicious tiger, hungry for its meat but as I did, I bashed into a set of chairs with incredible force. Startled, I jumped forwards but only to end up catching my foot on one of the table legs and sent myself crashing to the ground with an excruciating force. Blinking in confusion as I lifted my cold, battered face off the ground, I regained my blurry sight and blinked down on the white mess of blur in front of me.

I had rubbed my eyes as I prized myself halfway off the ground then shrieked. My eyes once again fell upon the letter, _that_ letter. I sat staring at the piece of paper, once again frozen and unaware of my able senses. Words, phrases, they spun round in my head like an unstoppable whirlwind of power. _She doesn't want me. She doesn't need me. She'd rather die on her own than be with you. _I burst into sudden tears at this last thought. After all, it was technically true. What other reason would there be? She had left, left me, because she had cancer. Now, why would she do that? I was her daughter, did she not want me to care for her, to look after her, to help her with this terrible disease? It was all a mess, this was all a mess.

This aftermath, these thoughts, my actions, they all lead to this moment. They all lead to now. I'm here, in my room, slumped wearily on my bed. I was trying to consider possibilities. Possibilities for myself. If Ronnie didn't want me, was there any point in trying to find her? Was there any point in even comprehending this? I stood up, my back aching from having been arched in the same position for over an hour. My eyes were still filled with tears, tears of sorrow, tears of worry. I traced my hand swiftly upon the picture situated on my bedside table. A picture of Ronnie, the first picture I ever had of Ronnie. It was the picture I used to keep stored safely in my locket. Ronnie, a smile beaming across her face, not a hair out of place, her skin flawless as always.

This wasn't the only picture I had of Ronnie. I had more of Ronnie_ and_ me actually. It was just...this picture was the most important picture to me. Mainly because It stored many memories. The memories of the days I pondered over deciding if I should try and find Ronnie. The memories, the good and the bad, as I tried desperately to fix the mother/daughter relationship I knew I could have with my mother, my birth mother. And lastly, it held the memories of the day when everything seemed to turn out right between Ronnie and I. She accepted me. She knew it was me, I was her Amy. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek as I relived this memory. However, this time it was a tear of happiness, of relief. Instead of wiping the tear away viscously, I let it flow down my cheek, graceful and elegant. A warm smile crept onto my face, for once providing me with joy rather than misery.

I set the picture back down on the bedside table and mentally adjusted my imaginary thinking cap. I needed her back. Yes, I was sure, I needed her back. Forgetting my horrific appearance, I glided downstairs and spun out the door. I was going to find Ronnie, I was. However, there was still a small thought nagging in the back of my mind, was this worth it? Could I just be leading myself into more disappointment? I skidded to a halt, my heels grinding me to a stop. The nagging thought could not be ignored. Should I go after her or am I just wasting my time?

**Well that was chapter 6! I'm so sorry I didn't update yesterday! It was just I was so tired (following a sleepover on Saturday night) that I couldn't concentrate at all so I sincerely apologize for that! I'm not going to set a date for the next update in case something like that happens again but I will say that it will be updated very soon! Anyway, I hope you liked it and you liked it so much that you think you will review. Review please!**

**Georgina =) **


	7. Chapter 7

**OK, you're not going crazy, I have actually updated! Sorry it's took me so long. What with maths tests and writers block, I haven't been able to update until now! Sorry but anyway, that's enough from me! You should read chapter 7 now...**

**Ronnie POV**

Chapter 7

I wandered down the smoky streets, beginning to get curiouser and curiouser of my surroundings. Truthfully, I had no idea where I was. I had just continued walking, lost deep down in my own pool of confused, saddened thoughts. However, despite this, reality had stretched out its long, slender arm and grabbed me by the shoulders, dragging me back to face up to the misery filled soul that held with it, my fears, my pain, my terror. _Reality,_ I sighed, _Always hated it_.

As reality pulled and pulled at me with forceful and tactful tricks, my brain eventually clicked back into its usual routine, its usual trail of thought, its usual pressured self. My eyes suddenly spun back into focus and my legs automatically skidded to a halt as I realised I was walking without even knowing! Crazy, it may seem, but it was true. Maybe that's who I was becoming though...a crazed woman. Crazy.

I stood, speechless, lifeless, still. I gazed down at my hands. My suitcase was still there, the handle resting in the palm of my right hand firmly. I gazed at my legs, wiggled them then unexpectedly hurled over in pain. My ankles were swollen, my feet dotted with sore blisters, the consequences of walking for far too many miles in high heeled shoes. I leaned against someone's house's wall, not caring who's it was or where it was. Quickly, I prized the shoes off my aching feet and set them down on the ground beside my suitcase. I sighed in relief as I felt the cool, smooth pavement beneath my feet. I wriggled my feet about, the pain slowly easing off. At that very moment, a woman walked past me, looked me up and down then scurried off to wherever her destination was. _Idiot_, I thought, _I must look like a right idiot_. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, I tugged the shoes back onto my feet, bursts of unnecessary pain flowing through my feet as soon as the slightest inch of shoe grazed upon a boiling, disgusting blister.

Limping slightly, I began walking again. I wanted to find the nearest possible resting place. I gazed around, searching and searching for any reasonable coffee shop or bar. "Finally!" I breathed as I spied a coffee shop on the other side of the road. Hurrying, I raced across the road, ignoring the throbbing pain circulating my feet. Halfway across the road I decreased from a quick and snappy pace to a steady, easy pace in order to admire the coffee shop in full detail.

It honestly looked lovely. It seemed homely, comforting, a place I could finally sit and relax and forget about the stresses surrounding my awkward and unpredictable life. The sign above the door consisted of a black background and white writing which read: 'Cat's Café'. I lowered my eyes to the door. The door, sleek and elegant showed no signs of being there for a long period of time however, there was a notice underneath the sign reading, 'Celebrating 10 years of this immaculate business this Tuesday!' Hard to believe that this gorgeous café had been sitting here in this unknown town for a whole decade.

With this thought clearly still in mind, I slowly stepped through the entrance, pushing the door with force in order to open it. I gazed down at my hands in horror. I was getting weak. It was just an average push open door and yet, I was struggling. How long before I started struggling with even the simplest of things? A tear slowly trickled down my cheek as I comprehended this awful thought.

"You OK, lady?" a gruff looking man around my age spluttered.

"Yes, I'm fine", I tried to seem professional and elegant but that was far too hard to obtain. My voice was shaky, unconvincing and showed my obvious signs of being in some sort of difficult situation. He looked up from his coffee mug and began to observe me with an unconvinced look on his tough, plump face.

I sat down in a hurry, rushing to the nearest seat I could find. I waited, almost expecting something incredibly awful to happen. Not being able to bare it any longer, I scanned my eyes across to the man's table. To my horror, he was still observing me. I felt uncomfortable, he was eyeing me up, judging my every move. I flipped my hair back and cleared my throat in a bid to pluck up some courage. But just as I did, the man took one last sip of his coffee then prized himself from his chair and hobbled over to my table. He took a seat quickly then stared at me. It was as if he was waiting. But waiting? Waiting for what? Determined to stand my ground, I continued to sit, my eyes fixed on him in case he made any sudden movements, my posture; tall and strong.

"I don't think you're all right, lady", the man seemed to gurgle at me, coffee extracts fleeing from the insides of his mouth and landing in a revolting puddle of saliva on the edge of my table.

"Excuse me," I chuckled. I couldn't believe this man believed he could figure me out within only five minutes or so of knowing me. In fact, not even knowing me. He certainly did not know me. "You have no right whatsoever to just think that you can judge me like this!" I was getting angry, very angry now.

"Calm down lady, I just want to help you!" I looked down at his face from where I was situated. His face seemed so innocent, so trustworthy. I sunk back down onto my seat from the standing position I was in. I gazed into his deep blue eyes. I saw someone I could rely on, someone that could help me. But could I trust him?

**So should Ronnie trust him? What do you think about this new character? Is he as nice as he seems or is he going to play a cruel trick on Ronnie? Well, I hope you liked this chapter anyway. Review Please!!**

**Georgina =)**


	8. Chapter 8

**The 8th chapter of 'Scarred' is now up! Enjoy! R&R!**

**Danielle POV**

Chapter 8

I wasn't stupid. I didn't just run out and begin a wild goose chase in order to find my mother. I tried my hand at being a detective. I'd seen it all before in crime or murder dramas. The detective was always calm, refused not to panic no matter what the situation. They would speak to witnesses, relations to the victim or accused and then somehow find the evidence to piece the facts together and conclude a result. The only problem here was: this was no TV drama. This was real. I was no detective and there were certainly no writers to make sure this all ended happily ever after.

Breathing deeply, resisting the urge to burst out crying and run to the nearest possible form of help, I slid my hand upon the door handle and quietly twisted my wrist, forcing the door handle to curl round and open the forbidden door. Forbidden; indeed, I my eyes, it was. I had never dared to approach Ronnie's room before. Not only had there been no need to, but I didn't want to see inside. I blamed my feelings on invasion of privacy but I knew that it wasn't that at all. I didn't want to unravel the secrets and lies which lay within the dark, mysterious room. I had no doubt in Ronnie, I honestly didn't, but I knew for a fact that every family shadows occasional lies and secrets. No family can go without them. But every family buries them in the one place they know no one will ever dare to look. Their bedroom.

As the door handle turned, my heart now racing so fast I began to worry that it may stop altogether, I pondered upon these ugly worries. Maybe not everyone has secrets and lies. Maybe there are some families that are, indeed, perfect. However, I had never known of any family such as this. In my opinion; every family has troubles. And if one family was to have troubles; it was definitely going to be the Mitchells.

The door creaked, my heart sped, and I found myself somehow pushing the door open. I closed my eyes, not feeling ready to face the truth behind these closed doors. Nervously, I peered out of one eye and, suddenly feeling less nervous, peeled open the remaining eye.

The room was...normal. All this time I had expected the secrets to be sat in front of me, staring me straight in the face as I entered the room. However, they were not. The bed was carefully made, not a crease to be found. I shuffled towards the chest of drawers. I brushed the slight coat of dust off the chest of drawers with a quick flash of a hand movement. These drawers, they seemed as if they hadn't been touched for weeks, months, maybe even years. I sighed, knowing what I had to was wrong but in a way, necessary.

I opened the drawers reluctantly, the dust prompting me to sneeze hysterically. To my relief, there was nothing in the drawers apart from odd tatters of weak and limp paper. This discovery, a whole load of nothing, made me feel somehow more confident, almost too confident. I ushered myself away from the chest of drawers and rested against the neatly made bed. I breathed, my eyes flickering round the room, searching for something, anything. Continuing to find nothing, I sunk down and fully sat on the bed. To my surprise, as I sat down I heard a strange crumpling sound from beneath the mattress. I bounced, putting pressure on the bed so that I could hear the noise again.

Convinced, this time, that my ears were not playing tricks on me, I knelt down on the floor and carefully slid my hand under the sleek, white mattress. As my hand slithered underneath the puffy mattress, worming its way through the thick coat of white like a snake, my hand finally felt something. The surface of it was smooth, however, the edges were sharp and pointy. It was paper, I was sure of it.

I withdrew my hand from the mattress, pulling the paper-like item back with me. I sat on the floor, not caring whether or not I was comfortable or not. All of a sudden nervous once again, I carefully unfolded the tatty piece of paper. As it unfolded, it revealed a passage of some sort. I took a better look. It was a poem, in fact. I read it out loud to myself.

_They tore my heart,_

_Two worlds apart._

_My nerves were a state,_

_As I awaited my fate._

_It took only one gaze,_

_And the rest was a haze._

_It wouldn't digest,_

_I was distraught, I was a mess._

It didn't take me long to discover what Ronnie had wrote about. It was her cancer, the moment she found out about her cancer. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I realised how much this had already affected Ronnie.

But poems? Ronnie writing poems? To be truthful; I didn't believe it. I couldn't. It was hard to comprehend that every time a situation had hit Ronnie, I always thought It hadn't affected her that much. She seemed to take everything in her stride. She showed very little emotion. Little did I know, all this time she was pouring her emotions out onto these scraps of paper.

I flicked through them, hardly believing my eyes. I suddenly fixed my eyes upon one poem in particular.

_I have to get out,_

_I can't leave her in doubt._

_She need to be free._

_Far, far away from me. _

_I can't leave her to cry, _

_After my final goodbye. _

I felt myself in shock. I was shocked that I seemed to be able to understand her words. I understood now. She left for _me_. She left to fulfil my future, not hers.

"But it's not what I want!" I seemed to scream, scream at anything, anyone, "I just want her here with me, looking after me. I want to help her!"

I picked up the pen that was fastened to one of the scraps of paper and tearfully began to write what I could. I copied Ronnie's style of writing, her rhymes and came up with something I could call my own, something to show her what I wanted.

_I don't want you to leave,_

_Stay here, help me grieve. _

_I want to be there,_

_When you need everyday care._

_Please come back home,_

_I'm a mess, I'm alone. _

**So did you like this chapter? I hope you did! Well, please check out the next chapter which will be updated shortly. Review please!!**

**Georgina =) **


	9. Chapter 9

**This is the 9th chapter of 'Scarred'. Enjoy! R&R please!**

**Ronnie POV**

Chapter 9

I watched as his eyes scanned me, much like he had done as we sat only inches apart in the café. I shuffled around in my seat awkwardly, suddenly aware I was inside a stranger's house. A stranger I had only met ten minutes ago, possibly less.

"Coffee?" his voice, gruff and powerful echoed throughout my head. I stammered as I hesitated my reply. I couldn't trust him as of yet, could I? Although, coffee was hardly going to make a flicker of difference.

"Sure", I mumbled, still in doubt. He smiled weakly then headed into his small, cheap kitchen.

"So...uh, what's your name?" I was sure he could sense the worry in my voice as I asked him that question.

However, he set my rudeness aside and answered my question with a positive attitude, "Hank".

"Hank, nice to meet you. I'm Ronnie".

Hank, he was quite a mystery. I was aware that I had barely said two words to him but, even so, his house showed no hints of personality or likes and dislikes. He ruined my fun, to be honest. Maybe it's strange, maybe no one does it apart from me, but if I enter a new friends' house, I look around, rocket my eyes around the room and learn new information just from a first glance. I pick up on things; the pictures of family or friends, the continuous colour dotted around the room- usually their favourite colour- and sometimes you can even tell from clothes lying around. However, in Hank's house, there was absolutely no bright colours; just simple plain white, there were no pictures, paintings, photographs, anywhere and as for the clothes, they were probably folded away neatly in a bedroom drawer.

In a slight huff, following my discovery that I could not find out any first glance information about Hank, I slid back into the depths of my chair and crossed my arms into a tight fold across my chest. Hank re-entered the room and passed me a slightly cooler than normal coffee.

"Thanks", I breathed, my voice slipping to a quiet hush as I gasped for a drink of the coffee.

I drank, sipping down the coffee at a speed I have never quite achieved before. I was thirsty, I guess. But for some reason, my thirst never quite dawned on me. Maybe that was a sign that worry and confusion had fully taken over my body.

"Ugh!" I spluttered, not in disgust but in even more confusion. The mug had suddenly become heavy, its abnormal weight crushing down upon my palms and dragging down my wrists until I was unable to hold the cup of coffee any longer.

My hand flopped, bringing the cup of coffee crashing down to the table. A few drops of coffee flew from the coffee mug and sprayed onto Hank causing him to jump suddenly backwards, maybe from the sudden shock of seeing me drop my coffee mug also. I watched, waiting in horror as a crack formed on the side of the coffee mug. It was funny how it seemed to go in slow motion like in the films. You never think situations will develop in that way but somehow in the moments where it _did_ happen to go in slow motion, the horror in my facial expression was captured. My eyes widened, my jaw dropped and I found my hands suddenly spirally above my head, the muscles in my fingers tightening until my fingers looked like claws as I waited for the mug to break right before my eyes.

'Far too much of a big deal to make over a cup of coffee', I know you're thinking that. But honestly, this was more than crying over spilt coffee. This was about what was happening to me, what was causing me to lose my strength. That was it after all, my lack of strength had caused me to lose my grip of the cup of coffee. When I was told this cancer would strike, I thought it would strike fast. I had no idea it would strike slowly. I saw it now. I could see how much trouble, how much hurt this was going to cause me in the future. I was going to die a slow and sad death, that was _if_ I lost my battle with cancer.

I sat there, oblivious to the everyday world. The many thoughts and worries scurrying through my brain, resulting to making me feel rather sick. It wasn't until Hank nudged me forcefully on the shoulder that I was drawn back to reality once more.

"Are you OK?! Ronnie?!" he nudged me over and over, shaking me to and fro. I gazed at him, my eye sight suddenly not as blurry as it had been. To my horror, it had been more coffee than that had spilled over him than I had thought. A large amount of his shirt was splashed with red hot coffee and, realising the danger, I burst up from my seat in shock.

"Am I OK?! Hank! What about you?!", I pointed at his shirt with a wild and worried look on my pale face, "Oh my god! You're going to be burnt! Oh my god!"

"Ronnie!" Hank pulled me back as I stepped forward, heading towards the kitchen to search for a spare towel, "Ronnie! I'm fine, honest. I'm not burnt. It's you that you should be worried about!" Hank lead me back to my seat and propped me down on the chair. I trembled, trembling because of the fear and trembling because of the mass of destruction I was already creating.

He gave me a minute to settle down, to regain my level of focus and determination to win my fight with this terrible illness. Slowly and steadily, my sanity travelled back to me.

"Ronnie", Hank breathed, wearing a clean, coffee-less shirt.

"Yes," I tried to sound cool and calm although I was still pretty shaken up.

"What's the deal?"

"The deal?" I was acting dumb. I knew exactly what the deal was...and so did Hank by the looks of it. He raised his eyebrow in a shudder of doubt.

"The coffee.." Hank said, almost in a whisper, " One minute everything was fine and then, out of the blue, you had almost a...a breakdown right before my very eyes".

I put my hands over my head and sighed, " I have cancer. Breast cancer".

There was a moment of silence. A silence of disbelief and concern. I don't think Hank quite believed it. I couldn't quite believe it either...I was beginning to pour my heart out to someone I had just met, a stranger almost.

"Shouldn't...shouldn't you be in therapy or..or something", Hank finally replied with an awkward twitch in his voice. I hadn't really thought about it, I guess. Well, of course I _had_ thought about it but it had slipped my mind...on purpose. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to think about going into therapy, losing my hair, everything.

"I guess...", a tear approached my eye as I once again contemplated the future.

"My mother had cancer. She went through hell with it...real hell", Hank sighed, burying his head down.

"So you know what happened?!" my voice rose as I saw a flicker of hope.

"No...I..I left her".

"You just left her?!" I was shocked, shocked that he had left her mother in such a terrible condition.

"Yeah. It broke her heart", he stirred his cup of tea with a silver spoon and as he did, his eyes filled with uncontrollable guilt.

I wasn't sure what to say, what to do, how to make the situation better. I simply sat, reviewing the moment. Hank really had broke his mother's heart. So what if that worked in opposites. What if I had broken Danielle's heart?

"Hank, can you drive me to the hospital?"

Hank was a little taken aback, he hadn't been expecting something so out of the blue, I guess, "Sure, sure".

We headed out to the car, me practically running. However, my fast paces only got me so far as the doorstep. I took one step forward and suddenly I felt a wave of dizziness sweep over me, my knees buckled under the pressure and I felt myself crashing to the ground. I felt the cold, hard tarmac against my cheek, I saw the rushing blurry feet beneath and then...silence.

**What's going to happen to Ronnie?! Are you liking the mysterious new character, Hank? Apologies for not updating sooner, I am SO sorry!!! Since I haven't been updating sooner, my next update will be between now and Tuesday. Thank you for reading and hope you liked it. Review please!!! **


	10. Chapter 10

**Here is the 10th chapter of 'Scarred'.Enjoy! R&R please!!**

**Danielle POV**

Chapter 10

I heard the distressed call of a hoarse man bellowing down the phone.

"Who is this?" my heart beat frantically as the panic in his voice struck inner terror.

"Hank", he breathed, his voice beginning to crumble.

"I don't know a Hank. Where did you get this number?!" the tone in my voice rose as I worried that I was being inappropriately harassed or I was getting prank called.

"I found it in Ronnie's little phone book", he bellowed.

"Ronnie?!" my heart was now pounding rather than beating. I was a mess of mixed emotions, excitement, worry, terror and anger. What I was feeling most; I just didn't know.

I held the phone in my palms for a few minutes, my grasp casually becoming looser and looser as I slowly forgot that I was actually holding the phone. The phone stuck to my sweaty fingertips for a couple more moments and then CRASH it hit the floor with a thud, not breaking the whole phone as such but seeming to knock off a few chips off the side. My mouth dropped into a slight opened position and my jaw somehow fixed into place, the muscles refusing to release their grasp on my jaw.

My thoughts were completely one hundred percent focused on the words this 'Hank' character had now told me via phone. He had said to me in the middle of our confusing conversation, 'Ronnie's in the hospital...she collapsed. You were right there on the top of her contact list. I wasn't sure who you were or if I should call you. I'm sorry if I've shocked you but, please, come quickly!' That was the moment where I went into sudden shock. Before that second when the phone had slid from the palm of my hand, a whirlwind of emotions and feelings scattered through my brain all at once like soft green leaves being blown viscously by the everlasting powerful wind. _Was she going to be OK? What had happened in the first place? Was this even real? Or was this just a sick joke? _

The thud of the phone crashing upon the ground seemed to automatically pull me from my thoughts and quickly focus on the situation. My eyes immediately sprung to the phone sprawled across the ground. Very little noise from coming from it and I silently panicked that I may not be able to find out more about Ronnie's current state of condition. With this in mind, I dove for the phone, knocking over chairs as I did so.

I pressed the phone tightly to my ear, almost dropping it once or twice more due to my shaky hand. "Hank?!" I choked, choked on worry, on fear.

"Da-n-ie-lle?" the phone crackled, his voice becoming robotic and unbearable.

"Hank!Hank!" I now screamed, screamed so loud that the whole of Albert Square could hear me, hoping and praying that Hank would talk before the phone died into silence so that I could gather the needed information quickly.

Luckily, my hopes were fulfilled. He gave me the information quicker than a bullet leaving a gun and that lead me here. In the car. Speeding. To be honest, it wouldn't have mattered which police cars drove up behind me, who tried to stop me, whether I was involved in a high speed car chase or not, my main priority right now HAD to be Ronnie's well being.

Sure enough as I sped through the streets, twisting and turning the wheel in quick subtle movements, I heard the wailing sound of that dreaded police siren. I uttered sudden words quietly under my breath as I added extra pressure onto the accelerator, forcing me to speed even faster. _God help me. God help __us__. _

I kept going nevertheless. I peered into the wing mirror of the car and spied, to my distaste, the policeman staring wild-eyed in my direction. His face showed no sign of acting in any apologetic way to me and the angry greyish wrinkly structure of his face didn't make this thought any less convincing. The sirens still filled the atmosphere surrounding me, making me feel slightly dizzy...like the world was somehow spinning forever more. I clutched the steering wheel, tightening my grip drastically as I began to feel the world crushing down on me through the sudden dizziness. I tried to peer at the road but all I could see were cloudy white lines coated upon creamy black tar. I saw the blurry figures of each and every passer-by but didn't dare glance at their uneasy expressions.

It was then that, out of the one spot of my eye that wasn't blurry, I saw a sign. Not even _a _sign, _the_ sign. The sign for the hospital. I drew closer to the entrance, my speed still sky high. It was weird. It didn't feel fast. It didn't feel like I was breaking the law. It seemed almost...normal. Somehow, it seemed right. At the time it didn't occur to me how much trouble I was yet to land myself in. It didn't occur to me that the raging policeman behind me was soon to catch up with me and sentence me to, if worst comes to worst, jail. The only thing that occurred to me was Ronnie's safety. It was the burning question in my mind; would Ronnie be OK?

**OK, not the _best_ chapter but I _did_ try my best! I hope you liked it nevertheless and the next chapter will be up very soon! Thanks for reading. And please review me so that I know people are still enjoying my story! **

**Georgina =)**


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